RantA Poem by D. MansfieldJust a rant
It's sad that what defines a Sunday is NFL games
The holidays have scrambled the weeks Everyday seems out of place Today a Saturday, just doesn't feel right It's as if our calander went on a drinking binge, Shuffling the deck. January 11th, and the holidays still in control. No football today, I'm told, So back to bed. Church h has been replaced with Sunday football. I don't even know anyone that attends church regularly. My mother is rolling over in her grave Our country is disintegrating, my heart longs for the structure from my younger days. And yet, my Sunday is defined by a football game. © 2025 D. MansfieldReviews
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2 Reviews Added on January 11, 2025 Last Updated on January 11, 2025 AuthorD. MansfieldMOAboutMark Twain, Sun Tzu, Hunter S. Thompson, John Steinbeck, the Viet Nam war on the nightly news, Smoking Joe Frazier, The Pittsburg Steelers 1970's, Thin Lizzy, Deep Purple "machine head", Steve Mi.. more..Writing
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